just another expectation

Society has a lot of unfair expectations. From the way we should look, to the things we should do, and to the way we should dress and act. It’s almost impossible to be confident with everything telling you “you’re doing it all wrong. ” I’m dressing wrong. I’m not acting the way I should. I don’t agree with the things I should agree with. It’s exhausting trying to meet all the expectations people have in order to feel accepted. I used to find it so difficult to find happiness in myself because the constant weight of the worlds idea for ‘wrong’ was holding me back from finding who I wanted to be.  Or how I wanted to dress, look, act, and in general, just live my life.

This past coffee house, I was on program and I wrote a poem for the theme “Metaphysicality.” The way it was described to me was: something somewhere it doesn’t belong.  I chose to write about perfection in reality, because these expectations of being perfect or having a perfect life are so unrealistic and the truth is, perfection will never belong in a world such as this one. And that’s a beautiful thing to me because personally, I don’t find perfection beautiful– I find it delusional. Anyways, here’s my poem:

They live with unconditional happiness everyday. 

Looking around at their life, 

and not one thing is wrong. 

Bright smiles presented all around them-

Even on the ones they love. 

Their family all sleeps in the same caring house,

Saying “goodnight”, and “I love you”,

Before they rest their eyes 

That have never shed a tear.  

And every peaceful morning, they wake up 

To the sun shining

In their room that only holds 

Good memories of better times that 

Keep getting better as they live their perfect life. 

 

But eventually, their smiles fade

Into sadness that pours out of their eyes. 

And their family stops caring 

And saying “goodnight”

Before they turn off the pointless lights

That can’t keep them out of darkness. 

And as they live their perfect life, 

It becomes less perfect. 

Because perfection doesn’t belong in reality. 

 

I used to wish that I looked perfect. That I had no flaws. I used to hope to have a perfect life. I used to be so blinded by my hope for something that doesn’t exist, that I never found beauty in what does. Luckily, I stopped looking for perfection in things and started loving things the way they are.

Have a good day:)